Living for the moment
by Lucey
Summary: Ennis POV, Ennis dreaming of and thinking about Jack.


Title: **Living for the moment**

Author: Lucey

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys – I wish I did, but well…g

Rating: PG I'd say.

Timeline: mh…hard to say. They met for a couple of times; Ennis and Alma are still married.

Synopsis: Ennis POV, Ennis thinking about and dreaming of Jack

Dedication: Happy Birthday, Dawnie! hugs

Note: This is my first attempt at BBM so be gentle. Feedback would be great! Thanks to Leni and Hannah for the beta.

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**Living for the moment**

It's always the same when he wakes up. Another dream is over and he has to take a moment to find his way back into reality. But every time he looks around all he sees is his bedroom - their bedroom, the same pictures on the walls, the familiar sheets, the sleeping body next to him – his wife. Alma's breathing softly and his eyes rest on her for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall, every breath, every moment another reminder that he's back in reality.

It's always the same when he wakes up. The dreams however are always different. Only that they are about Jack, always Jack. Sometimes he dreams of that summer, the smell of grass, of beans and cheap whiskey, of sheep – all scents forming a picture in his mind. It's so real that he can almost see Jack's face when he closes his eyes again.

Sometimes the dreams are so real that when he wakes up Ennis could swear he still smells Jack. But when he turns around it's always gone. The realization hits him with full force – every single time. He has to get up then, leave the room because he suddenly can't stand it, not the room, not Alma, not the girls. It's not their fault – it never was – but that doesn't make a difference, doesn't help.

Nothing is ever fair.

The dreams come at night, catch him off guard and when the morning comes he has to struggle as he rebuilds the walls.

It's always the same – the time in-between seems to move with excruciating slowness. But when they meet it's never enough time. It's never enough, never satisfying, never even comes close to making up for the time apart, the pent-up longing and the feelings kept under the surface. Their time together is always limited and he knows that it's mostly his fault.

Sometimes he finds himself wondering if maybe, Jack is right. It's easy to believe, his optimism threatens to sweep him off his feet and Ennis feels like he has to hold on to something or he will lose the ground beneath his feet. He listens to Jack, hears him talk about the plans he has – plans that include him, Ennis. It's dangerous listening to Jack because it's hard not to believe that everything could be the way he plans. It's so easy to believe that they could have a future, a life – together, not these stolen moments every time the longing gets too bad and he can't breathe anymore – until he sees Jack again.

Only with Jack he allows himself to be weak, to be touched – body and soul. He tries to fight it anew every time but he knows he's weak. And with Jack, it's okay to be weak. There is no pressure on him, to earn money, to drink less, to be there, to listen. He knows that Jack tries not to pressure him and he both loves and hates him for that. Pressure would make him angry and yet he's glad to have the knowledge that Jack is patient enough to wait – for him, for now.

He wishes for a lot of things. A better job would be nice; more money would make life easier. He wishes that he wouldn't be so scared, that he'd be able to stand up for what he wants, able to say yes to Jack's plans, the life they could have. And he wishes that his father didn't have so much power over him, still, after all these years. The wishes keep piling up and he pushes them away, tries to focus on other things: work, the girls.

It's exhausting, keeping up the pretence. The most exhausting job he's ever had. He has to remind himself that life isn't supposed to be easy. That it's not about wanting but about dealing. So he deals, with his job, his boss, Alma, the girls – always moving, never allowing himself to stop. Stopping is dangerous, because then it all comes back: the dreams, the wishes, the hope, the smell of grass and cheap whiskey and Jack – always Jack.

The one thing he never had and will never have any control over, which makes it all that much clearer to him that this, what they have, can never happen. Not in the real world.

So all he really can do is dull the pain with one more beer, to go back to sleep and keep living – living for the moment he'll see him again, for the next postcard to arrive and for the next time, always the next time, when he'll allow himself to be touched – body and soul. Because without the knowledge that there'll be a next time, always a next time, the world would stop.

It's night again and he closes his yes, goes back to sleep, back in time, back to him, back to where there's hope and dreams – to Brokeback Mountain. To Jack.

The end.


End file.
